


Two Minutes, Too late

by goldenrazzmatazz



Series: Imagine Supernatural [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Reader-Insert, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1909782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenrazzmatazz/pseuds/goldenrazzmatazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Would you be willing to write a fic where after a disturbing and emotional vision, Chuck contacts the boys concerned that you’re in danger.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Minutes, Too late

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is one of my reader-inserts, which I originally posted on twsupernaturalimagine.tumblr.com . I'm reposted all my reader-inserts on my Ao3, to keep them all together. Thank you for reading. If you have any input, please put it in the comments :)

He woke up screaming.   

It wasn’t unusual for Chuck Shurley to wake up gasping, choking, or near tears; the visions of Sam and Dean’s life that he was plagued with sometimes contained horrors that could put Stephen King to shame, but this was new.

 

Tears streamed down the prophet’s cheeks as he attempted to get a hold of himself, gathering his wits so he could try and write down his newest vision.

Even if it was the most appalling vision he had ever had.

He stumbled to the kitchen, tripping over a discarded towel in the living room and poured himself a glass of Scotch-the strongest thing he had-before bumbling to the computer. He sat down, gulped down the liquid and ignoring the burning sensation that filled his throat before he began to type.

_“Sam, Dean! I’m going out!” she called, smile stretched across her features. “Do you want anything?”_

_“We’re good, thank you!” called Sam, not looking up from the book he was probing._

_“Some pie would be nice, if you wouldn’t mind, sweetheart!” called Dean from another room, causing a laugh to erupt from the girl_

_“I could have guessed! Be back in a jiify!” she giggled, turning around just as the phone began to ring and Sam moved to answer it, not receiving a reply_

_It took her less than ten minutes to get to the nearest store. Less than fifteen minutes before she was making her way back to the car.  
She didn’t notice the man following her._

_Unlike Sam and Dean, who had become warier and more cautious due to their years of hunting, Y/N’s experiences had made her less concerned about humans-something that would prove to be a dangerous mistake._

_She walked to the car, taking quick long strides, humming some old Kansas song that Dean had been playing in the Impala earlier that day, when the man grabbed her around the waist, knife swinging around to her throat as he leaned in, alcohol on his breath and whispered-_

Chuck stopped typing and rubbed his eyes, a slight headache beginning to form in the back of his head. He took another swig of the scotch, sighing. He looked to the corner of his desktop, checking the time. Nearly two in the morning. His breath caught in his throat.

He could have sworn the clock on your car dash had been after two. It hadn’t happened yet. He could stop it.

Chuck shot out of the chair, tripping over the corner and sprawling headfirst into the table. He let out a small moan as his head collided with the wood. He stood up and stumbled to his bedside table, picking up the small phone and dialing the number he had long since memorized.

“Chuck, are you alright? It’s late,” answered a concerned Sam. Chuck could almost picture his nose crinkling as he spoke.

“Where’s Y/N?” demanded Chuck, voice cracking as he hoarsely spoke your name, voice still rough from crying.

“She just left, Chuck are you-”

“I just had a vision. She’s at a convenience store ten minutes north of the bunker. You have to get her! Now!” Chuck exploded, feeling tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh my god,” gasped Sam, and Chuck heard Dean’s muffled voice ask what’s wrong before Sam quickly explained. “Chuck, we’re going now we’ll call you back,” Sam said before hanging up.

Chuck wandered around his small house, heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know if he had been able to prevent the assault. His stomach clenched and he felt dizzy as dread consumed him while the minutes ticked on. Eventually the phone rang, and Chuck dove to answer.

“Hello?” he gasped, chest constricting, barely allowing him to speak,

“Chuck! It’s me, Y/N! You, you, oh my gosh, Chuck thank you!” you stammered, voice breaking as you began to sob.

“Y/N,” Chuck wheezed, “are you alright?”

“Yes, Chuck. Thank god you told Sam and Dean, they came just in time. He was, that man was going to-” Chuck let out his own relieved sob as you continued to cry on the other end.

“I’m so sorry that he almost hurt you,” Chuck whispered, sniffling. He could almost cry again, this time because he was so relieved.

“They were almost too late,” you murmured. “Two minutes and they’d have been too late.”

“You’re safe though. That’s what’s important,” Chuck consoled, as he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “You’re safe.”


End file.
